


If You Need A Friend

by stars28



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Awesome Happy Hogan, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 07:08:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11962299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stars28/pseuds/stars28
Summary: “Of course I care Peter. I may not show it very well, but I do.”





	If You Need A Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t seen many Happy and Peter bonding fics, so I wrote one. It’s got angst and self-harming thoughts because I’m me. Enjoy!

_“I heard that you've been_  
_Having some trouble finding your place in the world._  
_I know how much that hurts,_  
_But if you need a friend_  
_Then please just say the word...”_  
**\- Missing You, All Time Low.**

It’s 3:36AM and Peter’s not asleep. The green light of the high-tech alarm clock Mr Stark gifted him is mocking him by creeping closer to dawn. He’d got in from patrolling Queens relatively early; it’d only been half eleven when he’d swung into his room.

Peter groans quietly and shuffles around so he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He’s sure that he’ll regret the lack of sleep come morning, but he just can’t sleep.

_“If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.”_

He shakes his head. He can’t start thinking like that, not when there’s nothing, _no one_ , to distract him from the damaging thoughts. He knows they’re damaging, he knows, but that doesn’t stop him from beginning to think that he was useless. Peter thinks that’s why Happy never responded to any of his texts, he probably thought that Peter was stupidly childish.

The clock’s changed to 3:40AM. Peter has accepted that he’s not going to get to sleep any time soon. He can’t turn any of his lights because they’d wake his Aunt up and he doesn’t want to wake her up, not when she’s working so hard to support him and she’s been so good about him being Spiderman. He sighs; trying to supress the feeling that was building in his chest, slowly taking over all the thoughts in his head.

He’s useless, that’s why Mr Stark didn’t trust him with his suit. It makes sense now, Mr Stark thinks he’s a child. Happy would’ve told Mr Stark about the dozens of texts each day, each one hopeful for more information about possible missions with Mr Stark and the Avengers. Looking back now, Peter’s embarrassed that he was so clingy, so hopeful and so naive. If he could go back and change it, he would, but he can’t. All he can do now is…atone for it. Preferably in blood.

3:55AM. It’s now, after all the bad thoughts have gone through his head, that Peter fumbles under his pillow and pulls out a small razor. Just before he presses the razor into his skin and releases his pain in blood, he pauses and thinks about how bad this coping mechanism is. How much everyone would be disappointed if they ever found out that some of the cuts that were littered across his body were self-inflicted and not from baddies on the streets.

How it’s just _not_ worth it.

Peter breathes out shakily, putting the razor down on his bedspread. He knows that he’s going to have to do something else to distract himself from his thoughts. He gropes for his phone off the bedside table and presses the home button to turn the screen on. The bright light hurts his eyes.

Having dealt with these kind of shitty feelings before, Peter knows that just playing on his phone or delving into the depths of the internet isn’t going to cut it. No, he’s going to have to call someone at…he checks the alarm clock, 4:10AM.

He can’t call Mr Stark, for much the same reasons he can’t tell Aunt May. Mr Stark would be disappointed and concerned, he’d probably take the suit away, without understanding that helping people is sometimes the only thing that stops him from tumbling down into a swirling mess of depressing thoughts. He can’t call Ned because his family will be asleep and Ned needs all the sleep he can get tonight because they’re planning on having a _Star Wars_ marathon tomorrow night. He can’t contact MJ simply because she’ll want to come over and doing that would wake Aunt May. That leaves…Happy, the go-between himself and Mr Stark.

Peter and Happy had been getting on slightly better since the whole Vulture incident, with Peter reducing the amount of texts he sent to the older man and with Happy responding every so often. It’s as good as their relationship is going to get. They’re never going to be best friends or anything, but Happy tolerates him. Which is good because Peter’s going to ring him at quarter past four in the morning.

He navigates to Happy’s contact quickly enough and then pauses, his finger hovering over the call option. But Peter _knows_ that this is one phone call he can’t not carry out. He presses on the touchscreen, then brings the phone up to his ear.

The dialling tone is stupidly loud in his ear as he waits with bated breath, both hoping that Happy picks up and praying that he won’t.

_“Peter?”_

“H-Happy?”

_“Why are you calling me at four in the morning? Are you hurt?”_

Peter laughs lowly; the whole point of this phone call is that he _won’t_ hurt himself.

“No, I – just…”

Happy yawns, _“You just what Peter?”_

“You know what? This was a bad idea… Never mind.”

_“Peter, something is clearly wrong if you’re calling at this time. Tell me what it is.”_

“It’s nothing really, except, I guess…I just need a distraction from…”

Happy’s voice is unexpectedly gentle when he says, _“From what Peter?”_

Peter gulps. He’s never said what he’s about to say out loud to anybody before because he doesn’t want to bother anybody.

“So – so that I don’t… h-hurt myself I guess. I don’t want to hurt myself, I suppose, but it feels like a good thing to do right now.” Peter sighs, unhappy with the way he’s explained himself. “I just don’t know.”

_“Do you want me to get Tony?”_

“No. Don’t. This isn’t a big deal.”

_“If you’re thinking about hurting yourself, then it’s a big deal Peter.”_

And Happy’s voice is so fucking _caring_ that it makes Peter tear up and a lump forms in his throat. He didn’t think Happy cared.

_“Of course I care Peter. I may not show it very well, but I do.”_

Fuck, he said that out loud, didn’t he? What a fucking idiot.

“I…cannot believe I just said that.”

_“It’s fine. I probably need to demonstrate that I care more often kid.”_

It’s stupid, Peter knows, but a flare of warmth goes through him when Happy calls him by the nickname Mr Stark has given him. A tear drips down his nose and he sniffles, feeling cared about. He thinks he can go to sleep without any cuts. Tonight at least.

 _“Kid?”_ Happy sounds concerned, like he’s ten seconds away from getting Mr Stark to fly over to his apartment.

“I’m fine.” Peter reassures him, “I think I can go to sleep now. Thanks Happy.”

 _“It’s nothing.”_ Happy pauses, _“Remember, if you ever get like this again, do what you did tonight and call me or one of your other friends. I’ll always be here.”_

“I – thanks Happy. Really.”

 _“I mean it kid, call me if this_ ever _happens again. Now get some sleep.”_

“Will do.”

When he hangs up, Peter finds that he has a small smile on his face, which is a change from the usual outcome of this moods. He puts his phone back on his bedside table, noticing the time of 4:38AM. He takes comfort in the fact that Happy said that he can call him at any time.

Before he knows what’s going on, he’s asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry for hurting Peter emotionally, but at least he has Happy to help. This was an idea I came up with while drunk and I think I’ve succeeded quite well.
> 
> Kudos and comments are encouragement.


End file.
